


dog tag promise

by professortennant



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Angst, Dog Tags, Episode: s04e05 Divide and Conquer, F/M, Promises
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-06-16 08:47:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15433323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/professortennant/pseuds/professortennant
Summary: The chain slips over his head and he presses the chain and clanking metal tags into her hand. “Take it,” he urges, forcing her fingers to curl around the skin-warmed metal. She looks up at him, eyes wide and bottom lip trembling. He clenches his fist at his side, stops himself from reaching out and swiping his thumb across her bottom lip and following the touch up with a kiss.





	dog tag promise

**Author's Note:**

> i remain 100% invested in this headcanon and every time i see their tags on the show i am CONVINCED they are wearing the other's tags.

None of this has to leave the room.” 

It’s a quick solution: box it up and leave it behind. He’s surprised at how much he  _doesn’t_  want that. But it’s not his call.

“We’re okay with that?” he asks softly, a part of him hoping she’ll say  _no;_ part of him hoping she’ll tell him screw the regs; part of him hoping she’ll smile at him and tell him they could just move into the room. 

“Yes, sir.” 

He’d believe her except she’s looking at him with her chin jutted forward, her jaw clenched. She looks like she’s a fresh-faced cadet about to face off with a particularly grumpy drill instructor. It looks like it’s the last thing she wants to say. 

She moves to brush past him, to follow Janet and the other airmen out of the room. But Jack can’t let her go–let  _them_  go–like this. 

“Sam, wait.” He grabs her arm, holds her back. If she leaves this room–if she leaves everything they’re saying and feeling in this room and never looks back–before he can tell her this, it will be one of the biggest regrets of his life.

The words stick in this throat, propriety and nerves combining and wiping away his ability to speak. She’s looking at him from beneath thick lashes and he itches to brush the hair from her eyes. 

Words were never his thing, anyway.

He reaches for the chain around his neck, fingers trembling with nervous energy and an act of desperation. He eyes the camera blinking in the corner of the observation room and knows that she will wipe this from the SGC’s hard drive. 

 The chain slips over his head and he presses the chain and clanking metal tags into her hand. “Take it,” he urges, forcing her fingers to curl around the skin-warmed metal. She looks up at him, eyes wide and bottom lip trembling. He clenches his fist at his side, stops himself from reaching out and swiping his thumb across her bottom lip and following the touch up with a kiss. 

 "Sir–“ 

He shakes his head and presses forward, pushing the tags at her. "I’m not saying  _never_  and I’m not saying we can’t. I’m saying someday. I’m saying as long as you have these,” he trails off, raising her clasped hand and his dog tag to his mouth, pressing a solitary kiss to the back of her hand. “As long as you have these, you have me." 

 She bites her lip to stop herself from crying. It’s not  _fair._  She wants to shuffle forward and kiss him, tell him she feels the same way, tell him that she cares for him so, so much more than she’s supposed to. 

Instead she reaches behind her and slips her tags out from beneath her tee and replaces them with his necklace.  _Jack O'Neill_ is imprinted on the metal around her neck, the tags burning their mark against her heart. She sighs at the familiar weight around her neck and the knowledge that it’s  _his_ tags that she now carries fills her with warmth. 

 She tugs at his collar, wordlessly, and he bows his head as she slips her own tags over his head. Deft fingers catch her tags around his neck and she presses the kiss she cannot give him to the metal and tucks her name against his heart, beneath his shirt. ”

Not now; someday,“ she agrees, solemnly. 

 They’ll leave this in the room; box it up and pack it away and when they step outside he will be Colonel and she will be Major and they will go back to toeing the line, careful of not pushing boundaries. 

But they have exchanged a promise–something better than rings. They have a name to carry with them, a promise to live for, a love to protect, a someday to look forward to. 


End file.
